Extending a Lease

Word Count: 917

People keep telling me that sparkling water is an acquired taste, but I think it’s just an excuse for rich people to feel special even when drinking water. Like what’s the point? Why do I need my water to be fizzy and taste like bitter nothingness? It's like they put all the good stuff about soda out of the equation. Maybe they made it so that rich people could feel like they were above everyone and for poor people to not understand what was so great about sparkling water. This is all to say Johathan is a fuckin’ prick because he drinks La Criox for every meal, after every work out, when he’s watching TV, and when he is about to go out to work. I don’t think this guy has struggled a day in his life. 

Jonathan is the most entitled person I have ever met. He says the wildest shit without blinking and acts like I can drop four hundred dollars for a Kendrick Lamar concert like it's nothing. He always leaves his dishes in the sink, and expects me to clean them. His room smells like he murdered one of his hook-ups and left her rotting corpse in there. Living with him could not be worse.

“Hey man, you know the famous saying ‘Bite the bullet’ said by JFK or something.”

“Yeah I think I heard of it… Although are you sure JFK said it?” I feel my left eye twitch.

“Well then who said it?” He asks with a dumb squinting of his eyes, as if it will help him think harder.

“I dunno? Someone in a movie probably.”

“Wasn’t JFK a famous actor?”

“He was the president.”

“Oh yeah.” I try hard not to roll my eyes.

“Anyway, is it chill if I bring one of my friends over tonight?” Jonathan raises his eyebrows and nods his head up in the most casual and annoying way possible. I wish I could rip his head off.

“Can you define what one of your friends means?” I ask him with a raised and disinterested brow. 

“She’s supposed to help me with some assignments, no big deal.” He says with a shrug that irks me.

“Yeah I don’t think so man. I got a bunch of work I need to finish and I don’t wanna hear you… studying from my room.” I start flipping through the television channels from the couch to emphasize my disinterest. 

“Alright, that’s chill. I’ll just cancel.” Jonathan pulls out his phone to send a quick text like it's nothing. Nothing! What the fuck? What is going on? Usually it takes more convincing and coaxing on his end. Like I’m the reason he can’t bring anyone over.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks man.” I say sitting up slowly from my position on the couch.

Jonathan looks up from his phone and makes eye contact with me. It’s awkward. I feel like he is trying to tell me something.

He lingers at the door.

“You good?” I ask. Bracing myself for the worst.

“Yeah.” He looks away and sways slightly at the entrance to the living room and hallway.

“Okay.” I blink at him slowly this time. I have never felt more sick to my stomach from looking at someone like I have now. He turns around and leaves the hallway to enter his room. Amazing. I thought this guy couldn’t get any weirder.

I stand and head to where the washing machines are, stacked on top of each other, and two baskets thrown next to them. I need to shift my clothes from the washer to the dryer, but when I get there all of them are neatly folded and placed in my basket. I stare at them in disbelief. I check to make sure that they are my shirts and they are. What the hell?

I move to the kitchen next. It’s spotless. All of the dishes are washed. I open all of the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen. All of the plates are stacked, the utensils in the drawers, and the cups in nice rows. 

I start running around the apartment. I check every nook, every cranny, I start wiping my finger against the furniture and shelves to check for dust like some crazy detective looking for any clues as to who killed the victim. There is not a single fuckin’ speck of dust.

Something is terribly wrong. Is Johnathan gonna kill himself?

I run to his door and I start banging loudly. “Jonathan! Open the goddamn door!”

He swings it open rapidly, looking absolutely scared and bewildered. “What the fuck is wrong with you Steve?”

“No! You don’t get to ask me what the fuck is wrong! You can’t die, you've got a lot to live for!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The apartment! Why is it clean?”

“Cuz it was dirty?” He says as if I am the stupid one.

“So? You’ve never cared before?” I tell him exasperated.

Then he shrugs. The most nonchalant, gym bro, muscle t-shirt with gym shorts, kind of shrug I have ever seen. The down turn mouth with a walnut chin, and shoulders and eyebrows raised. 

“My parents called.” He finally says.

“Uh…okay?” I stand frozen at the sudden change of subject.

“They said they are gonna cut me off if I don’t get my act together or some shit. Anyway, would it be chill if I extended my lease?”

My mouth drops open in shock. I really hate this guy.